More Good Ideas
by Spikesgirl58
Summary: A sequel to Uncle Charlie's "A Good Idead at the Time" - they may be on vacation, but Napoleon is still the guy in charge.  Warning - pre slash, so read with caution!


Napoleon Solo cracked open one eye and tried to figure out who was hissing at him. After a moment he woke enough to realize it was not a hiss, but actually the sound of rain through the dense pine foliage outside the window.

Now more awake, he recognized the drip of rain through a downspout and a steady rhythm on the roof of the lodge. He lifted his head and tried to look around the room, but it was still very dark. Beside him, he could hear Illya's deep and regular breathing. Obviously the rain hadn't played the same trick on his bladder that it had on Napoleon's.

The room's temperature was cool and Napoleon no more wanted to crawl free from his snug cocoon of blankets than he wanted a brass band to march across the room. Still, there were some things that took precedence even over his will.

Eventually he slipped out of the bed and walked quickly across the chilly wooden floor to the bathroom. He groped for a light switch before realizing the lodge had no electricity in the rooms and he had to rely upon memory and touch to find the toilet.

By the time he finished and washed his hands, he'd grown accustomed to the ambient temperature and instead of returning straight to bed, he walked cautiously to the window and peered out.

Day was slowly edging out night, staining the sky a murky gray. The trees were black and glistened in the rain.

"I don't understand, sir." Napoleon studied his employer and then returned his attention to his tickets… his cancelled tickets.

"When I proposed that the two of you take a vacation, Mr. Solo, it was not meant as an excuse for the two of you to gallivant across the globe in search of some nubile young ladies. It was intended for you to rest and regroup. That is why UNCLE is paying."

"One man's rest –" Napoleon started, still hopeful that he could recover the situation.

"Will do you quite nicely," Waverly finished. "The destination that Mr. Kuryakin selected sounds extremely relaxing." Napoleon felt his heart drop as the table spun and a new set of tickets were presented to him. "I suggest you join him there."

So here he was, stuck in the middle of God's country. And there were several young ladies who seemed quite amenable to company, so he wasn't without that avenue. Yet for some reason the women here seemed much more interested in his partner. It was as if they'd never seen a blond before. Well, Napoleon did have to concede that Illya was very easy on the eyes.

The waitress, while friendly to him, nearly fell over herself to get Illya to acknowledge her.

"You seem to have caught the eye of the waitress," Napoleon murmured, sipping his coffee. Illya seemed more intent upon his serving of French toast

"Hmm?"

"The waitress?"

"Do you need something?" Illya started to raise his hand, but Napoleon caught it and lowered it to the table and rested his upon Illya's. A flush hit him at that point and he didn't really know why. It wasn't the first time he'd had Illya's hand in his. This time, though, it felt different, almost… intimate.

"Nothing," Napoleon said, releasing Illya's fingers. "I was saying that the waitress likes you."

"Oh." Napoleon watched Illya dismiss her with nothing more than a nod. "So what do you want to do today? There's hiking, horseback riding and the pool. I wasn't sure how jet lagged you'd be today."

The reality was that Napoleon had crawled in beside Illya last night and slept soundly until this morning. He always seemed to sleep a little better when they were forced to share a bed. Napoleon didn't understand why; he hated sharing a bed overnight with a woman. They always stole the covers and hogged the space.

"I'm game for just about anything." Napoleon finished his coffee and refused a refill as the waitress hovered.

"Excellent. Why don't you make arrangements for a packed lunch for us and I'll get some directions."

Napoleon walked out of the dining hall and felt his temper flare. Illya was sitting very close to that female ranger, their heads nearly touching as they examined a map. With a start, Napoleon realized he was crushing their sandwiches and forced himself to relax his grip. _Where did that come from? _ He thought. Usually he wasn't quite so proprietary when it came to his partner. Napoleon quickly crossed the lawn to Illya's side.

"All set, partner?"

Illya looked up sharply and Napoleon swore the woman made a face at him and crinkled up her nose. "Oh, Dana, I don't believe you're met my partner. This is Napoleon Solo. Napoleon, Dana Blackwater."

She nodded quickly to him and returned her full attention to Illya, passing him the maps. Her fingers traced over Illya's, but the Russian's eyes remained neutral. "I hope you enjoy your hike." She scowled at Napoleon and hurried off.

"Do I offend?" Napoleon asked as he watched her disappear into the lodge.

"Why do you say that?" Illya eyed him closely, smiling. "You look fine to me."

"I felt as if I was interrupting something."

"Only on her part, I assure you. Let's get changed and we can go."

They'd spent the morning and early afternoon hiking. Napoleon had to confess the scenery was beautiful, but more than that, the solitude, just the two of them and all of Nature, was like a soft blanket on a cold morning. UNCLE had had them going in different directions for much of the last four months and it was good to reestablish their link that was so necessary for a successful partnership. He suspected this was Waverly's plan all along.

They ate lunch, laughing and talking, at the base of a tall waterfall and took their time returning to the lodge. They arrived with just enough time for a short soak in the pool and to watch the storm clouds gather by the distant mountains before the prospect of dinner forced them back to their rooms to change.

The winds came up during dinner and rattled the windows. It couldn't get in, but the campfire was cancelled because of it. The Ranger offered to move the talk inside, her attention rather pointedly fixed on Illya, but Illya appeared totally focused upon Napoleon.

Napoleon knew Illya didn't care for overly-aggressive women. Whenever they tried to make the first move, Illya would frequently back off. He wanted to be the pursuer and the ranger had missed that message.

Instead the two agents sat on a lumpy old sofa tucked into a corner of the lobby and played chess by the fireplace until sleep threatened to take them both out.

Napoleon watched as the day lightened, although the rain wasn't letting up. It was going to be a good day to stay inside and play chess, read, or just talk. Something stirred in Napoleon's groin… _Or something else._ He looked over at Illya, still sound asleep and pursed his lips. _I wonder…_

He'd been getting mixed messages from Illya for a while now and he just wasn't sure how to respond. While Napoleon was an equal opportunity lover, he'd never really ventured into that conversation with his partner.

Still, it was apparent that something was going on in that blond head. Illya had been glued to his side as if protecting him from a THRUSH attack. Or was it something else?

Napoleon walked back to the bed and cautiously lifted the blankets. He eased in and up against Illya, holding his breath. Illya's breathing didn't change; it remained even and deep. After a moment, Napoleon slipped an arm over Illya's waist and paused again. Apparently Illya was sleeping so soundly he didn't even know Napoleon was there, holding him.

Smiling, Napoleon nestled closer against his partner, frowning only when Illya's hair tickled his nose. He readjusted his pillow and rejoiced in the small liberty of being spooned against the Russian.

If the room had been lighter, he would have been able to see the same satisfied smile on the lips of his partner. If Napoleon had managed to stay awake just a few seconds longer, he'd have heard Illya's contented sigh and felt Illya snuggled back just a bit closer.

A very good idea, indeed.


End file.
